Late
by Charlie'sLostVampire
Summary: Set Pre-Iron Man. Tony recalls the moments he decided that he liked Virginia Potts as more than just yet another personal assistant, and decided she may have the potential of actually becoming his best friend.
1. Late

Tony Stark and Pepper Potts had always had a strictly platonic relationship. She'd made it very clear when she started working for him that, if he tried anything that surpassed her standards of "just flirting", she'd mace him.

Of course, that didn't mean they weren't friends. It was merely a few weeks into their professional relationship that Tony realized just how much he liked being around this girl. She wasn't like the other young women Obadiah had tried to hire to be his assistant; all of them were boring and tried to get him to attend meetings on time, but they promptly gave up and gave into his wishes when he refused often enough. But Pepper… Pepper was feisty. Maybe it was the red hair.

If there was one moment he remembered deciding he wanted to be Virginia Potts' friend, it was the first time he refused to attend one of his meetings while she was working for him.

"Mr. Stark?" she'd called out as she walked through the cavernous Malibu mansion and JARVIS quickly alerted Tony of her presence down in the workshop.

"Sir, there's a young woman up stairs calling you."

Tony had furrowed his brow as he slid out from beneath his Audi down in the workshop at hearing the AI's voice.

"Who?" He'd asked as he sat up and wiped the grease from his hands.

"She's unidentifiable, sir. She's never been here before."

That was odd. What kind of woman just broke into his house and started calling for him? Okay, that was easy; any woman would. But what woman _could?_ He had a top-notch security system that he'd designed himself. It should have alerted him before now that she'd gotten inside.

"Get her picture. Do a background check and tell me who she is."

"Of course, sir."

Upstairs, Pepper was getting irritated. "Mr. Stark!" she'd shouted for what felt like the tenth time, her heels clicking on the polished hardwood flooring. "You're going to be late for your meeting at two!"

"Sir, the results have concluded. Her name is Virginia Patricia Potts, recently appointed as your personal assistant at Stark Industries. She's twenty-six years old, possesses strawberry blonde hair, and-"

"I got it, JARVIS. Send her down."

"Right away, sir."

"Mute," Tony announced, the AC/DC song playing in the background going silent. He couldn't help the slight smirk that pulled at his lips when he heard Pepper shriek with surprise upstairs at the sound of JARVIS. Moments later, her heels noisily clacked down the staircase, and she paused outside the glass door, spotting him lounging on the floor, smirking over at her. Her hair was hanging loose and curly around her shoulders, like it always had when she started working for him, and her lips were pursed tightly with clear irritation. Rapping on the glass, she shook her head.

"Mr. Stark, open this door. We need to discuss today's meeting."

"JARVIS, open it."

The door unlocked, and Pepper strolled in, trying to hide her clear awe at how advanced everything was.

"Sir, we have to talk about what you're going to say to the board-"

"Nothing to talk about," he stated with a shrug, picking up a wrench and sliding back underneath the car, talking as he tinkered. "Not going."

Her blue eyes widened, and she gave a short laugh at the pure absurdity of his statement. "Pardon me? Of course you're going. Now, I suggest you get upstairs and change. You can't go dressed in a greasy t-shirt and ripped jeans, and they're expecting you in an hour."

"I could go in a greasy t-shirt and jeans if I wanted to, Ms. Potts, but it doesn't matter because I'm not going."

Pursing her lips even tighter than before, she rigidly walked over to where he was hidden beneath the car, clutching her clipboard tightly as she crouched down to peer under at him. If he shifted just the right way, he could see under her skirt…

"Get out from under there. Now. You're going and that's final."

_What?_ Who the hell did this girl think she was? Sliding out from under the car again, Tony sat up so he was level with her, hiking a dark eyebrow in response to her words as he twirled the wrench in his hand.

"I'm not sure if anyone told you this yet, Pepper, but I'm not fond of meetings. They bore me."

"My name is _Virginia,_" she quipped in response, her lips, if possible, growing even more pursed, "and I don't care if they bore you. You're CEO, and you're expected to supervise and approve or disapprove of new weapons designs and suggestions. If you don't go, who will?"

Contemplating for a moment, he shrugged and lay back down, sliding under the car again. "You go. Take notes or something. Isn't that what a PA is for? To do the stuff I don't want to?"

Scowling, she shook her head and gave a tug at his legs, yanking him from under the car. His brown eyes widened up at her, and she frowned angrily down at him.

"No, Mr. Stark, it isn't. If it was, I'd evidently be doing your entire job for you. Now get up, go upstairs, and…" Wrinkling her nose, she added, "_shower._ You smell like motor oil."

Rising to her full height again; which he realized was, to his disapproval, a solid four inches taller than him; she scribbled something down on her clipboard. "You have fifteen minutes before I drag you upstairs myself," she stated, starting toward the door again, and he frowned angrily. This girl was really pushing her luck.

"How the hell did you even get into my house?" he asked, dropping the wrench and standing to follow her, and she gave a small shrug of her shoulders beneath her fitted black blazer, opening the door and starting up the staircase again.

"Your door was unlocked."

Blinking, he quickly followed her up the stairs, watching as she dropped herself down on his couch and continued to scribble away. Tilting his head, he raised an eyebrow.

"Please, make yourself at home."

"Oh, I intend to. Somehow I get the feeling I'll be hanging around here quite often if you make this attempting to skip meetings a regular occurrence."

There she went again with that confident little thought that she was actually going to get him out the door. Like that was going to happen.

"Attempting? I already told you I wasn't going."

Raising an eyebrow at him, she looked him over before turning back to her work. "I got you up the stairs, didn't I?"

Tony paused suddenly. She was right. He'd followed her like a loyal puppy. What the hell…?

"I… like your skirt," he responded quickly, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking. "I didn't mind chasing it."

Scowling, she reached for her purse. "Remember what I promised your body guards I'd do if they didn't let me into your office?"

Furrowing his brow, he watched as she pulled a canister of pepper spray out of the black handbag, and his eyes widened as he backed toward the bathroom. "Fine, _Pepper_. I'll take a shower."

Grinning victoriously, she placed the mace back in the bag and turned to the papers before her again. "Thank you. Make it quick, too; we're on a schedule."

"Oh?" he asked from the bathroom down the hall as he stripped his shirt off, dropping it carelessly to the floor.

"Yes. You have your 2:00 o'clock meeting with the board, a 4:00 o'clock discussion with Obadiah Stane regarding weapons capable of paralysis, and then a dinner at 6:00 o'clock with the head of Hammer Tech."

Groaning obnoxiously, Tony shook his head. He hated meetings with Stane about weapons. They were always something way too over the top, and half the time he got the feeling that the rather creepy man planned to use most of them on _him_. Pausing, he suddenly registered what _else_ Pepper had said. "_Justin_ Hammer? I'll go to the stupid meeting, but I am not having dinner with him. I'd sooner crash the Audi."

"You're going to the meeting, and you're meeting with Stane, and you're having dinner with Hammer. No ifs, ands, or buts."

Grumbling angrily, Tony stalked from the bathroom in merely the ripped jeans he'd been wearing, clenching his fists. No damn PA was going to tell him what he was going to do, and when he was going to do it. No one ever had, and no one ever would.

"Listen here, Potts," he snapped, and her eyes widened at the sight of him when she looked up. "I don't know who you think you are, but I am _not_ having dinner with the most obnoxious, self-centered, moronic, irritating man to ever set foot on this Earth."

She gaped at him for a few more seconds before her eyes narrowed with irritation, snapping back up to his face. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. When exactly did I tell you that you were having dinner alone?"

Fumbling in his rant, Tony furrowed his brow with confusion. "What?"

Shrugging, she rose to her feet and looked him dead in the eyes, her lips pulling down into a frown that nearly made him squirm. It reminded him of the one his mother used to aim at him when he'd done something naughty.

"You told me that you refused to have dinner with the most obnoxious, self-centered, moronic, irritating man to ever set foot on this Earth. From what you've shown me today Mr. Stark that happens to be you. Not Justin Hammer. Hence, I didn't tell you that you were eating with yourself. Now go get in the shower, get dressed, and for God's sake, learn some manners!"

Tony gaped at her. He couldn't even think straight. This girl, this pretty little twenty-six year old girl who had just waltzed into his home uninvited, had just insulted him to the highest degree. She'd talked down to him like she was his babysitter, not his assistant, and she'd had the _nerve_ to claim he didn't have any manners!

Where the hell had she been all his life? Smirking, he crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at her with curiosity in his eyes. Finally, someone who could match his wit and actually _challenge_ him.

"You know what, Pepper?" he asked, and her frown deepened at the nickname he'd given her yet again. "I'll go. Today. _Just_ today."

Blinking with surprise, she watched as he turned and started toward the bathroom again. "Wait, what? You're serious?"

"Oh, I'm dead serious," he stated, tossing a grin back at her. "I like my girls sassy. You might just be the sassiest of them all. You've earned yourself a prize."

"I… I… _I am not your girl,_" she finally managed to say, and he chuckled from the hall, hearing her heels following after him. "And another thing," she snapped, "My name, for the hundredth time, is _Virginia_. Is that so hard for you to grasp?"

"Nope," he said with a shrug as he reached the bathroom, obnoxiously popping the "p". "I just like Pepper better. It's kinkier, don't you think?"

Making an irritated noise of frustration as he shut the door in her face, she stalked back down the hall, walking so furiously that her heel chipped the floor.

Tony never bothered to get it fixed. It was a memento of the day Pepper Potts became his best friend. It was also the day that the members of the board at SI praised the lord for bringing Virginia Potts into Anthony's life. Ever since she started, he actually came to meetings almost every day.

Typically forty minutes late, with Starbucks.

Oh well. Some things never change. At least Pepper likes lattes.


	2. Shoes

It didn't take Tony Stark long to notice his new PA's love for shoes. Every day she showed up, he swore she had on a new pair. High, short, smooth black leather, beige fabric, pointed toe, round toe, polka dots; you name it, she probably had it.

They also hurt like hell when they hit you in the side of the head.

"Potts!" he'd shouted from his office, and she'd walked in a moment later, her pointed black stilettos clicking against the floor as she did so.

"Mr. Stark?" she asked attentively, crossing the room to stand before his desk.

"I need you to research someone for me," he requested, and she nodded, her pen ready to copy down whatever he needed.

"Of course; who is it?"

"Her name's Amelia Truscott," he stated, pressing his fingertips together as he swiveled aimlessly in his office chair. "Blonde; rapturously beautiful; I met her last week at some meeting in Georgetown."

"That meeting was with the president, sir," she said with a heavy breath. If he was going to remember something, you'd think he'd at least remember _that_ detail…

"Yeah, yeah, yeah; annoying voice, grey hair, cares too much about the explosives I can offer him; whatever. Amelia. Search her. Request that she meet me."

"Alright, fine," Pepper said with a sigh, turning to go.

"By the way," he called, making her stop. "Nice shoes."

"Oh." Glancing down at her feet, she grinned. "Thanks. They're Italian."

"Italian? I'm paying you better than I thought."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head and walked over to her own desk a few feet away from his office. He was impossible. She deserved just as much money as he made just for dealing with him and his whims every day…

Glancing down at the name again, Pepper sat down in her desk chair and went to work typing it in, blinking with surprise when she got her results. There had to be some kind of a mistake. This couldn't possibly be the girl Tony wanted to meet with.

Amelia Truscott wasn't a scientist, or a CEO, or even a member of national security, as she'd thought she would be.

Amelia Truscott, age twenty-three, was an extremely overpriced stripper. According to her bio, she would "make you scream like a banshee", "catch your money like it was on fire", and "was a fan of exotic roleplaying".

Gritting her teeth, Pepper continued to scan the multiple pages, convinced it had to be a mistake. No one was so disgusting as to get their assistant to book them a _play date_. But, surely enough, there wasn't a single option for Amelia Truscott that wasn't this girl.

"_Tony!_" she shouted at the top of her lungs, and he glanced up from fiddling aimlessly at his desk with one of his vintage model cars.

"What?" he asked, blinking when she walked in quickly with her red curls practically sticking up and bristling with her rage, "Something wrong?"

"You… you… _you…!_" Fumbling for words to say, she made a noise of angry frustration and pulled one of her shoes off, hurling it at his head. Not quick enough to duck, having never expected her to do so, Tony cursed loudly when the heel hit him square in the forehead.

"_Shit,_ Potts! _What the hell?_"

"_You wanted me to book you a date with a stripper?_" she yelled, clenching her fists as she tugged the other shoe off, throwing it, too. This one hit him in the shoulder, and he hissed angrily.

"Yeah! So?" he yelled back, not seeing the fault in his actions. Wasn't it her job to book his appointments?

"I'm not going to book you a stripper!" she retorted, staring him down as she stalked forward. "My job is to handle your business affairs, not your _personal_ affairs, Tony!"

"Your job is to do what I say," he grumbled, glaring right back. "And that's _Mr. Stark_ to you."

"_Mr. Stark_," she snorted, shaking her head. "If you're allowed to call me a spice, I can sure as hell call you by your given name."

"Says who?" he asked immaturely, and she practically hissed with fury, shaking her head. If only she had more shoes…

"Says me!" she snapped, and he crossed his arms.

"I beg to differ. Now, go call Amelia."

"No."

"_Pepper, I swear_…"

"It's _Virginia!_" she shouted, and he leapt to his feet, throwing his hands in the air.

"I don't care! I'm your boss, not the other way around! So stop giving me orders, or you're fired!"

"You can't fire me for not booking you a stripper," she scoffed, and he glared.

"Try me. As for _this,_" he growled, picking the shoe up off his desk, "I could press charges for abuse!" Tossing the shoe back at her, it zoomed past her head and into the wall, hard. Pepper winced when she heard a snap, slowly turning around and forcing herself to open her eyes and survey the damage.

There, on the floor, lay her brand new shoe, the heel snapped clean off. It was destroyed beyond repair. Trembling with pure rage, she slowly knelt and picked up the pieces, her eyes snapping up to her boss.

"Save yourself the trouble," she hissed, shaking her head, "_I quit!_"

"Good! Maybe now I can get an assistant who actually _assists!_" he quipped back, and she glared as she rose to her feet.

"_And those were Italian!_" were the last words she said before slamming the door to his office shut and stalking out of the building, shoeless, her feet bare save her stockings.

Glaring out the window, Tony watched her go, his brown eyes narrowed. Good riddance. Shaking his head, he walked back over to his chair and sat down, staring at the door. For a long time, he just sat there, the only sound in the room being the ticking of the clock on the wall behind him. He'd started to get used to the sound of Pepper typing outside the door, and it was almost eerily quiet without it. It took about forty-seven minutes before he started to feel guilty for his behaviour. Sighing, he cast his gaze down to the shoe that still lay behind his desk, the heel chipped from being thrown. Wincing, he absently rubbed his head. She had a good arm.

Taking a deep breath, he rose to his feet and picked up the shoe, crossing the room and dropping that, and the scraps of the other, in the trash before he walked out the door, shutting off the lights as he went.

… . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . …

"Pretentious asshole…" Pepper muttered angrily as she sat at her kitchen table, highlighting help-wanted ads. This wasn't exactly how she'd planned to spent her Friday night. Currently she was dressed in a faded old blue t-shirt and a pair of cotton pajama pants that matched. She was sat in her small apartment, the clock ticking on the wall across the room reading eight p.m. Another hour and she'd give up; settling in to watch re-runs of Grey's Anatomy until she passed out on the couch. As much as Pepper Potts liked to get dressed up, she truthfully lived a very lonely life. Her father, who had been in the CIA, was killed in a shooting a few years back, and her mother took to drinking not long after. She and Pepper had fallen out about it, and the two hadn't spoken ever since. Being an only child, talking to siblings was out, and she never really gave herself the time to make friends. Yes, Virginia was very, very lonely…

This was why she nearly jumped out of her skin when a knock sounded at the door. She'd paid all her bills in advance; who could it possibly be at this time of night? Was the building burning down?

Getting to her feet, she crossed the room and entered the hall, quickly walking to the door and glancing out the peephole. She proceeded to release a groan of annoyance, unlocking the door and pulling it open.

"You've got to be kidding me," was the first thing she said, scowling at the man before her.

Looking rather sheepish, Tony Stark gave her a faint smile, taking in her pajamas and messy ponytail. It was certainly a change from the prim and proper attire she typically wore around him.

"I… uh… came to apologize," he stated, his hands behind his back as he awkwardly rocked back and forth on his heels. "I shouldn't have asked you to do that for me, and I shouldn't have threatened to fire you."

"I quit," she reminded him, shaking her head as she crossed her arms over her chest. "But continue, by all means."

"Continue?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with surprise. "What else did I do?"

"You were a cocky asshole," she stated, her face placid, "and you broke my shoe."

"I'm always a cocky asshole, so I can't always be apologizing," he reminded her, a slight grin pulling at his lips. Rolling her eyes, she moved to shut the door in his face, and he quickly stuck his foot in the way to stop her.

"Wait, wait, wait!" he objected, and she scowled as she swung it open again.

"What?" she all but shouted, wincing when someone next door shouted, "_Shut up, Potts! My kids are sleeping!_"

"Sorry!" she called, and Tony gave her a small grin.

"I brought you a peace-offering," he stated, pulling a hand from behind his back, dangling a shopping bag in front of her face on his index finger. Her eyes widened when she saw the logo, and she quickly snatched the bag from him, pulling out the box and yanking it open, ripping through the pink tissue paper and releasing a startled gasp at the sight before her.

"You bought me Jimmy Choos?" she squeaked, pulling one of the expensive shoes from the box and examining it. It was black leather, open-toe, and at least six inches high with gold-studded trim on the back of the heel. They had to have cost at least $500. Her blue eyes widened further when she glanced at the sole only to find "_Pepper_" printed in ornate lettering.

"Custom Jimmy Choos," he stated, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "I would have had them sooner, but the print took a few hours and…"

Trailing off, his eyes widened when the woman, who was still about an inch taller than him even without her heels, threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

"They're perfect," she stated, grinning widely when she pulled back, her cheeks turning a bit pink. "Thank you, T- I mean… Mr. Stark."

Waving a dismissive hand, he gave her a lopsided grin. "Call me Tony. But, on one condition."

"Oh?" she asked, and he nodded.

"I get to call you Pepper. Besides; it's on your shoes. It's official."

Releasing a laugh, she shook her head and looked down at the shoes again. "I guess it is," she stated, smiling up at him. "Alright, fine. You can call me Pepper. I don't really like Virginia, anyway. It always made me feel like a grandma."

Smirking, he stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. "It is kind of a grandma name… Besides; Pepper Potts kinda has a ring to it."

"It does," she agreed, leaning against her door frame.

After a moment of pleasant silence, he finally spoke up again. "So… you still wanna be my assistant?"

"Do you promise to be mature?" she asked, and he snorted.

"As if." Noting her raised eyebrow, he sheepishly grinned again, "But I promise to deal with my own strippers. Deal?"

Shaking her head, Pepper gave him a grin in return. It was better than nothing. "Deal."

Bidding their goodbyes, Tony walked back to his car with a goofy grin on his face. For some reason, he'd felt happier than he probably should have when she'd hugged him. Plus, she smelled _really_ nice… like honey, oddly enough. It was intoxicating…

After he was gone, Pepper tossed the newspaper in the trash and spent the rest of the night modeling her new shoes. She didn't take them off all weekend.

Or for a solid year after she came back to work for him.


End file.
